


Landing on Mayfair (Or why you're stuffed)

by prettybirdy979



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has hobbies. The MJN crew just happens to have hobbies capable of killing you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Landing on Mayfair (Or why you're stuffed)

**Author's Note:**

> For a [prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=8755477#cmt8755477) on the kinkmeme asking for the MJN crew with hidden skills. There's [artwork](http://doortoparadise.livejournal.com/3916.html), go look! This was supposed to be a small fill...
> 
> 27/2/13- I've done some minor edits thanks to Debris_K's suggestions. Story is the same, it just has better grammar. Okay, maybe one or two minor changes.
> 
> 26/7/13- Maristars15 drew art for this too! Look at it [here](http://maristars15.deviantart.com/art/Landing-on-Mayfair-388024821)

**Martin**

  
Martin loved the feel of a gun in his hand. It was confidence and control. It was the one thing he knew he could do perfectly, his one skill. Admittedly, it was a useless one to have for his line of work but at the very least he knew he could do it.  
  
His grandfather had been the one to teach him shooting, at least in the beginning. Every time his family had taken him to his grandparents Martin had snuck into his grandfather’s study to admire the beautiful pistol he had locked in a glass case there. After the third time he had been caught in there, his grandfather had decided enough was enough and started teaching Martin to shoot it.  
  
Martin had taken to a gun like a duck to water. His grandfather had helped with this, never allowing Martin to hit less than every single can lined up on his fence. By the time his grandfather died, when Martin was sixteen, he could hit a moving target from twenty paces and almost always get it dead centre.  
  
All his grandfather’s guns were left to him. The fact the old man had had more than one was a surprise to Martin and his parents, and only after he had turned eighteen had Martin been allowed to have any of them. Most had failed to meet the government's gun laws and been confiscated. Martin had kept and been licensed for every single one that hadn’t failed.  
  
He currently only had the one gun (well two but he never used his grandfather’s beautiful old pistol so no one had to know he had that. The rest had been sold over the years, for one reason or another.) but he used it as often as possible. It wouldn’t do to fall out of practice.  
  
Like now. This deserted field where he practised was almost like an old friend. He spent hours here when not flying or working. His cans were still where he left them, hanging off trees and swinging in the breeze.  
  
Martin counted out about the fifty yards he was used to, lined his small pistol up and took a deep breath, breathed out and squeezed the trigger. He didn’t bother checking his aim but simply moved onto the next target. Breath in, out, squeeze trigger, move on.  
  
He didn’t miss a single one.

********

 

**Douglas**

  
It had started as a hobby really. Something to pass the time after his dear Mrs Richardson had left (the first dear Mrs Richardson, if one was being specific). Far better than going back to the bottle, and well, these hadn’t exactly been following the Marquess of Queensberry rules. Or any sort of rules, really. Some of the injuries Douglas had received had restricted his ability to drink. For the best really.  
  
But to begin with, he had mostly fought fights where it was a pair of men in a ring, attacking another. But Douglas had found he had a skill for it. Instead of trying to beat his opponent into submission through sheer amounts of punches, he prefered to keep out of range, darting away from his opponents’ punches and delivering his own strong punches when the man was tired.  
  
It hadn’t taken long for Douglas to make the jump from tiny pub fights to amateur boxing. Of course, his lovely new wife, once she had found out about his hobby had objected and any plans of Douglas to fight further had been derailed. Even after he had left her, he found himself not desiring a life of being beaten up for a living.  
  
This didn’t mean he didn’t do the odd fight or two now, just never the night before a flight and often with a stimulation of no headshots. These were friendly fights after all (The beats were just wagers between friends, out for a night at a dodgy pub).  
  
Douglas’ opponents always underestimated him, thinking because he was an older gentleman with a slightly rounder figure that he wasn’t that much of a threat. This attitude disappeared a few minutes into the fight when they hadn’t landed a punch and were being knocked around by Douglas’ extremely strong and well placed punches.  
  
Douglas hadn’t lost a fight in years.

********

**Arthur**

  
Arthur did not like his cousin. He was only the third not brilliant person Arthur had met and Arthur hoped he was the last. He was mean to everyone, including Skipper and reminded Arthur so much of his father. And he was wrong! He wasn’t a deadly weapon because he was trained in self defense because self defense was brilliant and was about protecting yourself (and maybe others). Which was a very brilliant thing to do.  
  
Arthur knew this was one of the few things he knew he could never get wrong. He had been sixteen when his Dad had put his foot down and told Mum to find him a boxing class or something to toughen the boy out.  
  
Mum had enrolled her son in a self defense class. Arthur had been so scared about hurting people when he walked into the first class he had hidden himself in a back corner. It hadn’t helped that for some reason he hadn’t understood, a few of the other people in the class had seemed scared of him. But the instructor was a really brilliant lady and had emphasized the importance of screaming at people and how self defense was about getting away not hurting people and Arthur had been hooked. He had slowly moved up to the front of the class, his happy attitude putting others at ease.  
  
After three years of classes, Arthur had asked his co-instructor how to defend himself when his hands were tied. She had frowned at him and asked why he wanted to know. When he had mentioned movies she had smiled at him and mentioned picking locks and escapology as things to look up if he was interested.  
  
Escapology had seemed dangerous and hard to get books on, but Arthur had had no issues finding books on locks. They were all really complicated but then Dad had yelled at him for breaking the T.V and Arthur had realised you don’t need to know how things work to be able to break them. You just break them. So he had saved up his pocket money for weeks to buy all the different locks he could and promptly lost all the keys.  
  
It took him six weeks to get the trick of opening them. By the time his parents had divorced Arthur was capable of picking most door locks and had even managed to pick the lock on his dad’s car (Though he had broken it to do so and Dad had been so mad Arthur had decided to not tell anyone he could do it, just in case Mum got mad too).  
  
Arthur could now break into most locks, including that pair of handcuffs his last girlfriend had left in his room. And of course, he was more than capable of defending himself.

********

**Carolyn**

  
Carolyn hadn’t actually wanted to learn to fence. She was perfectly happy to not spend hours poking a sharp metal thing at other people. But Ruth had wanted to learn and Carolyn had been spending hours watching her sister do it and so figured she might as well join in.  
  
The first time she beat her sister had made every moment of training worth it. Ruth had quit soon after, declaring that the sport was boring but Carolyn had continued. She liked the feel of the épée in her hand, and had enjoyed the improvement in her reflexes it had provided.  
  
By the end of her fourth year of lessons, Carolyn was an expert fencer, capable of fencing with the instructor and challenging him.  
  
But running a sweet shop was not a well paid livelihood. Carolyn’s parents had not had the money to transport their daughter to any competitions. By the time she was eighteen and married her first husband, Carolyn had given up fencing.  
  
But when her reflexes began to decline, she found herself practising again, if only to keep them up. It hadn’t taken long for Ian to catch her at it and with his encouragement, she had entered her first competition.  
  
She won. Her speed and accuracy had been heads above her opponent, and she had taken the woman by surprise. But her marriage had begun to fall apart around her and there hadn’t been time for even thinking about fencing, yet alone a second competition.  
  
Then Ian had taken her equipment in the divorce. It had been a petty revenge, she knew it but she couldn’t help but hate him a little for that. With her family blaming her for the divorce and pushing her to try to get him back Carolyn had just wanted an outlet where she could stab at things and have no one complain about it.  
  
One evening she had thrown a knife at the wall. It had stuck, and she had been hooked. It wasn’t quite poking at people with a pointy metal object but the thrill of getting a knife to stick in a chair was almost the same.  
  
Over the years she had brought more fencing equipment but now she was careful to only practice when Arthur was nowhere near the house. Mostly because his cries of brilliant would be distracting. She kept throwing knives too and while her aim was not as good as her fencing was she could still manage to hit a small chair from thirty yards away most times.  
  
Of course, this was all for fun. She hadn’t fought an actual person in decades, lacking the time and money to take classes. But boy would she like to.

********

**MJN**

  
“Do you yield?” Douglas asked with a smirk.  
  
“No! No. I can think of one. Errr.... Umm... There’s...Umm...” Martin said, his eyes darting around the flight deck.  
  
“Hello chaps.” Arthur called as he poked his head into the flight deck. “Mum wants to know why we’re over Fitton when we’re supposed to, for once, be over Bristol. I don’t know how she knows we’re over Fitton but she wants to know why.” He was nodding along as he spoke, making it clear he was reciting what Carolyn had told him.  
  
“Look out the window Arthur.” Douglas said.  
  
“Oh wow! That’s Fitton!”  
  
“And we’re over it because we’re going to land here. Bristol’s closed a runway and they’re expecting delays. It’s easier for us to go to Fitton.” Martin said. “Oh! Chocolate Night!”  
  
“Good one.” Douglas conceded.  
  
“What game are we playing, then?” Arthur asked.  
  
“Shakespearean dessert titles.” Douglas answered. “Go tell your mother why we’re here and prepare for landing.”  
  
“Righto!” Arthur said, leaving the flight deck.  
  
Martin smiled. “Fitton approach, this is Golf Tango India, requesting permission to land as per diversion from Bristol.”  
  
The radio remained silent. Douglas and Martin exchanged looks.  
  
“Fitton approach, this is Golf Echo Romeo Tango India requesting permission to land as per diversion from Bristol.”  
  
Still silence.  
  
“Carl getting a drink you think?” Martin asked, his hand reaching for a manual.  
  
“Maybe. Here, I’ll try.” Douglas said.  
  
“Carl, this is MJN Air. We’ve been diverted from Bristol and are requesting permission to land. Are you there?”  
  
 _“This is Fitton approach. You are not scheduled to land.”_ An unfamiliar voice came over the radio and both pilots groaned.  
  
“It’s that new guy.” Douglas complained. “All yours.”  
  
“Thanks.” Said Martin sarcastically.  
  
“Fitton approach, we’ve been diverted from Bristol. We’re running low on fuel and are requesting permission to land.”  
  
A brief pause then, _“Roger Golf Tango India. You’re cleared to land. Wind is 100 at 25.”_  
  
“Roger.” Martin switched the radio off. “What was all that about, I wonder?”  
  
“No idea. We can ask them when we land. I have control.” With that, there was silence in the flight deck as they descended on the airport.  
  
“And nice and smoothly.” Douglas bragged as he gently landed GERTI and began to taxi her.  
  
“Yes, yes. I get- Douglas! Watch out!” Martin cried noticing a man standing in the middle of the runway and staring the approaching plane down.  
  
Douglas pushed the brakes to their maximum strength and began to turn GERTI in the hopes of avoiding a collision. It was clear from the man’s rapidly approaching face that he was not going to move.  
  
GERTI came to a halt metres away from the man, now with her door facing him. As soon as the plane stopped Martin was out of his seat and into the cabin, and trying to open the door.  
  
Douglas flicked it open and Martin was jumping from GERTI's now open door with a grace he usually lacked and racing down the runway towards the man.  
  
“You idiot!” He screamed. “You just violated every regulation for this airport and those of common sense! This is an aeroplane, you give way to it, especially when it’s on a runway designed, wouldn’t you know it, for landing aeroplanes!”  
  
Martin’s voice suddenly cut off and Douglas abandoned his post-flight checks to go see to Martin. He met Carolyn at the door and together they froze when they spotted the sight on the runway.  
  
Martin was shaking, a gun being pointed at his head by the man.  
  
“Come out of there now, or your friend here dies.” The man said quietly. “Anyone tries to stay aboard and he dies anyway.”  
  
Slowly they nodded.  
  
“My son is still aboard.” Carolyn said. “I’ll go grab him.”  
  
“Quickly.” The man agreed.  
  
Douglas made his way down to the pair, while Carolyn went to grab Arthur from his seat. Passing the kitchen she paused, then quickly grabbed the throwing knife she had hidden behind the microwave and stuffed it down the side of her shoe. It never hurt to have a weapon.  
  
“Arthur? I need you to stay calm and come with me.” Carolyn said.  
  
Arthur dropped the hover he had been setting up and moved to stand beside her. “Righto Mum.”  
  
Arthur did gasp as he saw the gun pointed at his Skipper’s head. But he kept quiet and didn’t panic, which Carolyn was grateful for.  
  
“Put these on them.” The man said as they approached, giving Martin three pairs of handcuffs. “Make them tight. I will shoot anyone with loose handcuffs. And keep your hands where I can see them!”  
  
Shaking in fear, Martin slowly handcuffed each MJN crew persons’ hands in front of them.  
  
“Put this on your hand.” The man said, giving Martin another pair. “Then the rest of you, sit down. Not you!” He cried as Martin went to sit down. “You stay standing and keep your hands in front of you.” Quickly he lowered the gun and grabbed the handcuffs, shoving the loose cuff on to Martin’s other wrist. Martin winced and the man darted back, raising the gun.  
  
“Now come on. That way.”  
  
********  
  
For a reason Martin couldn’t understand they weren’t locked with the rest of the personal on the airfield, but in GERTI’s hanger. He could hear a man pacing outside the door, the third man Martin had seen. The second had helped get the crew into the hanger, complaining under his breath that taking over a small airport shouldn't be this complicated and they only needed it for one flight's landing this was too much work.

Martin had gone to reply but Douglas had kicked him and they had nearly tripped. That move had gotten them all but thrown to the floor in the hanger.  
  
“Well this was unexpected.” Douglas drawled.  
  
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” Martin began to whine. “We’re trapped in GERTI’s hanger while those people do God knows what to her and the airport.”  
  
“Do we not want to be in handcuffs then?” Arthur said.  
  
“No dear, we do not.” Carolyn said, putting all her attention on her two pilots and not looking at her son not sure if she could cope with the sight of him tied up. It would bring home exactly how much danger he was in.  
  
“We need to get out of here.” Martin said. “We need to call security, the police-”  
  
“Security looked like they are as tied up as we are. And you were here when they took our phones.” Douglas said.  
  
“Well you think of something better!” Martin said.  
  
“Easy enough. There’s only one man at the door. We get free, knock him out then use his phone.” Douglas said.  
  
“You dolt. That’s nowhere near easy.” Carolyn said “Have you ever knocked a person out? And then that’s assuming he even has a phone. All done with your hands in handcuffs!”  
  
‘Why would you do all that in handcuffs?” Arthur asked as he moved to kneel by Martin.  
  
“Because our hands are in handcuffs, dear.” Carolyn said before looking back at her son. “Your hands aren’t in handcuffs. Why aren’t they in handcuffs?”  
  
“I got out of them.” Arthur said, running his hands over Martin’s handcuffs.  
  
“Martin!” Carolyn cried in disbelief. “Why did you make Arthur’s handcuffs loose! He could have died!”  
  
“I didn’t!” Martin yelled right back. “I didn’t want him to shoot you so I did exactly what he asked!”  
  
He was watching Arthur who was fiddling with his handcuffs. Suddenly they opened and Arthur smiled.  
  
“Got it! It’s different doing it from the front.” He said, moving onto Douglas, a thin piece of wire in hand.  
  
“Arthur, you can pick locks?” Carolyn said in amazement. “How? Why?”  
  
“Well it’s like self defense.” Arthur said. “Self defense is really useful but what if your hands are tied? Or the bad guy gets you and you have to escape?”  
  
“But how?” Carolyn asked as Douglas’ handcuffs were unlocked. “How do you learn enough about a lock to understand how to pick it?”  
  
“Well it’s like the T.V, really.” Arthur said as he worked on her handcuffs. “Dad didn’t know it worked but he broke it easily. So I figured all I had to do was break locks then figure out how to break them so I can use the locks again.” He shrugged as he released her handcuffs.  
  
“Arthur keep those.” Douglas said. “They might come in handy.” He was standing by the door, eyeing the position of their guard.  
  
As he and Carolyn grabbed the four pairs of handcuffs, Martin moved to stand beside Douglas.  
  
“Well?” He asked quietly.  
  
“He’s too far away to surprise him completely. He’ll have a second to react.” Douglas determined.  
  
“Can we lure him in?” Martin asked.  
  
“I’ll bet his instructions are to shoot first, ask questions never.” Douglas drawled. “But...maybe...”  
  
“What is it Douglas?” Martin sounded worried.  
  
Douglas didn’t answer, just strolled out and tapped their guard on the shoulder. The man turned into Douglas’ fist.  
  
Douglas didn’t waste time with quips but pressed his advantage. He drove a punch into the man’s solar plexus and another careful punch into the bottom of the man’s jaw, breaking it. When he didn’t go down fast enough, Douglas put another punch into the guard’s chest.  
  
Douglas began to drag the barely conscious guard into the hangar. He looked to Martin for help but the man seemed to have frozen while staring at Douglas in shock. Douglas had the guard in the hangar before Martin unfroze.  
  
“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked as Carolyn and Arthur looked on in awe. Douglas bent down to check over the guard.  
  
“Pubs mostly. You’ll be surprised how many people are willing to fight a fat old man and then wish they hadn’t.” He pulled what he had been looking for out of its holster.  
  
“And we have a weapon.” Douglas said, pointing the gun at the wall.  
  
“Do you know how to use that too?” Carolyn asked, eyeing it in distaste.  
  
“I’m sure the mere threat of it will be enough.” Douglas smirked. “I’ll just point it and fire, it’s not that hard.”  
  
“No, it is actually that hard.” Martin said, to everyone’s surprise. “I’ll take it.”  
  
“You? Really?” Douglas laughed.  
  
“Give it here.” Martin said, holding out his hand with a serious look on his face. Douglas raised an eyebrow as he handed the gun over.  
  
To his surprise, Martin quickly removed the clip and checked the gun over. He ran a hand over the suppressor then reloaded.  
  
“Not bad.” He said, pointing the gun at the ground. “Now what?”  
  
“Martin you’re not seriously going to take that?” Douglas asked.  
  
“Yes. Now, did he have a phone?” Martin seemed unwilling to answer Douglas’ question so Douglas moved on.  
  
“Unfortunately no. Next move, Alpha?” Douglas turned to Carolyn.  
  
“Simple. We head to my office. Where the nearest landline phone is.” Carolyn said, reaching into her shoe for something.  
  
“And if they’ve cut the phone lines?” Martin asked.  
  
“We take back our airport.” Carolyn smiled, pulling out her throwing knife.  
  
Slowly, the rest of the crew smiled.  
  
********  
  
Carolyn’s office was in the main terminal, but right at the back of it, a short walk from the Portakabin the rest of the crew had to use. That meant that it was the closest point to the hangar and only required a short dash across open ground to get to.  
  
Martin refused to give up the gun so it was decided he would lead the way, making sure to hug the buildings so as to minimise the risk of being spotted. Arthur followed him, being watched by Douglas from behind. Carolyn and her knife brought up the rear.  
  
“Martin.” Carolyn whispered as they paused, gathering the courage for a sprint across open ground.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
She paused. “You die and I will bring you back and kill you myself.”  
  
Martin blinked, then Carolyn gave him a firm push and he stumbled out into the open. It took him a second, then he was sprinting. The crew tracked his progress, until he flattered himself against the wall beside Carolyn’s door. He raised the gun, then slowly opened the door that Carolyn never bothered locking.  
  
He disappeared into the office. Carolyn counted to ten, before turning to Douglas.  
  
“Watch out for Arthur.” she said.  
  
Before he could ask what she meant, Carolyn took off sprinting at a speed unexpected of one her age. She pushed herself against the outside wall, double checking she still had her knife. She took a deep breath and slipped into the office.  
  
A man stood in the middle of the office and raised a gun at her head.  
  
It took Carolyn a few moments to recognise that the man was Martin. His eyes were cold but as it dawned on him who Carolyn was, they widened with horror. He didn’t drop the gun though, but lowered it.  
  
“Oh God. Carolyn, I’m so sorry!”  
  
“Good work Martin.” Carolyn said. “I would rather a gun pointed at me then you being stupid and ending up dead and I being short a pilot.” She looked around the office.  
  
“It’s empty. No one here.” Martin said, walking to the door to wave the other two over. Carolyn went to her desk to check the phone as the sound of thumping feet drew closer.  
  
“It’s dead.” She called, holding up the phone.  
  
“They’re probably made sure the whole airport isn't contactable.” Douglas huffed as he entered the room. “Any clue who they are?”  
  
“None in this office.” Martin said. “I doubt they even bothered coming here, it’s so out of the way.” He gave Carolyn a pointed stare.  
  
“Oh, I’ve told you. This is the cheapest office and we’ll stay right here. You have the Portakabin, this is only for me to meet clients in. And Martin, is this really the moment to bring this up?” Carolyn said.  
  
Before Martin could retort, an unfamiliar man appeared at the doorway. He was huffing, obviously having run recently. In one hand was a gun.  
  
The crew stiffened but before Martin or Carolyn could react, Arthur stepped in. As the closest to the door he was ideally positioned.  
  
His first move was to scream at the top of his lungs. The man flinched and Arthur, having taken a fighting stance while screaming, took that moment to punch the man in the solar plexus. The man bent over and Arthur aimed a punch to his nose. The man grunted and Arthur chose to use a kick.  
  
It hit the man in the crotch and he just crumbled. Behind Arthur there were two sympathetic flinches.  
  
“You fight dirty, Arthur.” Douglas commented as it became clear the man was not getting up.  
  
Arthur turned to look at him in confusion. “How it is dirty when you’re fighting for your life?”  
  
“Good point.” Douglas admitted. “Arthur grab his arms and drag him further in. We’ll handcuff him to Carolyn’s desk.”  
  
“Think he can tell us anything?” Martin asked.  
  
“Does he look like his in much of a state to talk?” Carolyn snapped.  
  
Between the two of them, Douglas and Arthur got their captive to the desk and the handcuffs on him. Arthur found an abandoned jumper of Carolyn’s that they tied around his mouth while Martin took his gun and holster. It took a few minutes for him to get it to fit, to Douglas’ amusement.  
  
“You sure you need two guns?” He asked.  
  
Martin glared at him. “Better I have two, then one of you who don’t know how to use it shooting their foot off.”  
  
“And you do know how to use one?” Douglas scoffed.  
  
“Yes!” Martin stressed. “I know exactly how to fire a gun.”  
  
Douglas and Carolyn both huffed their laughter and Martin sighed.  
  
“What now?” Arthur asked, oblivious to the others mocking Martin.  
  
“We need to figure out where these people are and where our people are.” Carolyn said.  
  
“Well, we know there’s people in the Air Traffic Control tower.” Martin said. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have heard us.”  
  
Douglas nodded. “And I would bet good money there has to be some in the other hangar and this building. There’s not that many other buildings here.”  
  
“Right. So which one first?” Carolyn asked.  
  
“It’s going to take a while to get the tower.” Douglas said. “And require a sprint. Just wondering... Why do we need to go together?”  
  
********  
  
“Split up! You want us to split up?” Carolyn yelled.  
  
“Sh!” Martin hissed. “Not so loud!”

"Bit late for us to consider that." Carolyn said glancing at Arthur. "Arthur's already told half the airf-"  
  
“Carolyn, it is a good idea.” Douglas cut in. “There would be, at most, two people in that tower. Right Martin?”  
  
“Uh, I think? It’s pretty crowded with more than two people in there, which is really-”  
  
Douglas cut Martin off. “Yes. So, we send Arthur and Martin to check that out, then they can check out the other hanger while you and I look through the terminal. Takes half the time.”  
  
Carolyn heard what he wasn’t saying. _We’re in danger, and you can’t protect Arthur. My way, at least you’ll have tried._  
  
“Wait, you want me to me to do what exactly with the people in the tower?” Martin asked. “I don’t... I’m not up for killing anyone.”  
  
“So don’t. Just threaten.” Douglas said. “Or give me the gun.”  
  
Martin took a step back. “It’s not that simple-” He argued.  
  
A clanging made Martin break off, and they all turned to see Arthur had knocked off Carolyn's in-tray.  
  
“Sorry.” He said wincing at having made more noise.  
  
“We can’t stay here.” Carolyn decided. “We’ll follow Douglas’ idea. Martin take Arthur and go now.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Now!”  
  
********  
  
“Skip, is that a guard?”  
  
Martin and Arthur had bolted from the office at Carolyn’s shout and were now standing against the wall of GERTI’s hangar. They had the tower in their sight.  
  
Sadly this did nothing about the fact that between them and the tower was nothing but the open runaway. And-  
  
“GERTI.” Martin breathed.  
  
“Skip?” Arthur asked.  
  
“Look! They’ve left GERTI in the middle of the runway.” Martin pointed at the abandoned plane. “When I say so, we sprint for her.”  
  
“Righto Skip. What about that man?” Arthur asked.  
  
“What ma-oh.” Martin felt his heart sink when he saw the guard standing at the bottom of GERTI’s stairs. “Well there goes that idea.”  
  
“Can’t you just shoot him?” Arthur asked. “Like in the movies!”  
  
“No I can’t shoot him!” Martin gave Arthur a horrified look. “I’m not going to kill a man! But...maybe.”  
  
Martin trailed off as an idea occurred to him. Slowly he raised the gun in his hand, breathed in and exhaled as he squeezed the trigger.  
  
His shot was perfect, lodging in the stair set that only GERTI used. He swallowed the guilt he felt at firing on her as he squeezed off another shot. This one landed slightly further up the stairs. Combined, the shots were enough to make the guard believe he was being fired upon. He ran for cover in the nearest building.  
  
And away from GERTI. Martin turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile.  
  
“Wow, Skip! That was really brilliant!”  
  
Martin went slightly red. “Thank you. Come on!” He grabbed Arthur’s hand with his free hand and together they sprinted for GERTI.  
  
“Close the door, Arthur.” Martin ordered as he entered the flight deck. He looked up and grimaced when he saw the two men arguing outside the terminal in front of him. Clearly the guard thought he had been fired upon by his own people. That would change once Martin started GERTI up.  
  
“Arthur, you have GERTI's spare key?” He called out.  
  
“Right here Skip!” Arthur said, bounding into the flight deck. “Right under 2B, like always.”  
  
“Here we go then. Hold on.” Martin flipped the necessary switches and prayed.  
  
GERTI was on her  best behaviour today, it seemed. She started with no issues. At the sound of the engine, the arguing men drew their guns. Martin immediately put GERTI into a turn, presenting her tail to their bullets.  
  
“What do we do now Skip?” Arthur asked as they slowly taxied towards the tower.  
  
“Well I think we’ve successfully distracted our bad guys. Next step, taxi to the tower and radio for help?” Martin took a deep breath as he realised how badly thought out this plan was.  
  
“Brilliant Skipper!”  
  
Martin began to apply the brakes as they reached the tower. He brought GERTI to a halt as close as he could, trying to place her wings as cover from above gunfire.  
  
“Okay Arthur. I want you to run for the tower as soon as I open the door. Give me the key.” Martin said.  
  
Arthur handed him the key. “Oh! I get it. Good idea Skip.” Martin blinked in confusion as Arthur bounced to the door.  
  
Martin opened it and Arthur took off. Martin crept to the open door and tried to get a clear look at the people in the tower. There was the sound of smashing glass, then Martin flinched as a bullet hit the stairs they had forgotten to detach. He fired a blind shot, smiling when there was the sound of more smashing glass.  
  
“Got the door!” Arthur cried.  
  
“What?” Martin called, unable to see what Arthur was doing.  
  
Two more shots hit GERTI, clinking as they hit the metal plane. Martin hid further into the flight deck, trying to gather his courage for another shot.  
  
Arthur screamed. Suddenly it was not at all difficult to peak around the corner and fire two shots into the tower. A body hit the window.  
  
There was no more shots. Martin held his breath in disbelief, until Arthur appeared at the doorway.  
  
“Skip, there’s a whole lot of men running towards this building. What do we do?”  
  
“Umm..Okay. Lock GERTI, and get inside. Did you break the lock on the tower?” Martin demanded as he slammed the plane’s door shut and locked it.  
  
“Nope!” Arthur said as they fled into the tower and the relative safety offered by the locked door.  
  
Martin froze at the scene at the top of the tower. As predicted, there were two men, both of whom were groaning on the floor. One looked to be slowly regaining consciousness, while the other was bleeding from his nose and was in a position similar to Arthur’s previous fight.  
  
“What did you do?” Martin asked in surprise.  
  
“Defended myself.” Arthur grinned.    
  
********  
  
Carolyn grabbed Douglas’ arm and dragged him towards the back of the office where she kept her filing cabinets.  
  
“There’s a door behind these.”  she said. “I put them there specifically so that no one could use this door.”  
  
Douglas caught onto her line of thought. “But management kept their side clear, yes I recall this argument. Phil and I were taking bets. I believe Carl won with this compromise which caused a week of controversy.”  
  
“Yes. Anyway, if you can move these cabinets we’ll have an advantage.” Carolyn said.  
  
“If I can move these cabinets? Not we?” Douglas complained, already calculating angles.  
  
“Remember who pays you.” Carolyn said, opening one draw and fishing out a deadly looking knife. At Douglas’ raised eyebrow she said, “Well, I like to have something to defend myself with. I couldn’t fit the épée.”  
  
Douglas smirked. He started pulling drawers out of the cabinets, Carolyn helping after the second drawer. Then with a deep breath, he pushed at one side of one cabinet and slowly began to move it out of the way.  
  
“Not so loud!”  
  
“I’m being. As quiet. As I can.” Douglas huffed. “You try moving this.”  
  
“Oh move over.” Carolyn huffed and between the two of them they managed to clear the doorway. Carolyn flattened herself against the wall by the door handle and looked at Douglas who was still in the middle of the room.  
  
“Count of three,” she whispered. “I open this slowly. We give it ten seconds. If no one comes through we charge.”  
  
“I bet you’ve always wanted to say that.” Douglas said as he flattened himself against the wall beside her.  
  
“I have Arthur as a son. How many times do you think I’ve said that?” Carolyn counted to three in her head, then carefully twisted the handle so the door slowly opened. It gave the illusion of the door having open in the nonexistant wind.  
  
 _One. Two. Three. Oh Arthur, I hope you’re alright. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten!_ Carolyn threw the door open and lifted her knife so she was holding it in front, ready to throw, as she stormed through the doorway.  
  
Her knife sunk into the stomach of the man standing there. His eyes widened as hers did and he made a slight huffing noise. Behind him, another man gasped in shock at Carolyn’s appearance.  
  
For one second the room was frozen in surprise. Then Douglas regained his wits and charged across the room, throwing himself into the gaping man before he could use his gun. Carolyn stepped back in surprise, pulling the knife out which caused another huffing noise as air left his lungs. The man collapsed.  
  
Carolyn looked down at her hands which were covered in blood. The world seemed cold and confusing, and was it cold? _Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. A man is dead, oh God._  
  
Two hands were placed on her cheeks and drew her head up to meet Douglas’ eyes. “Arthur.” He said, and the world began to make sense.  
  
Carolyn took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” She said. “I’m fine.”  
  
“You’re not.” Douglas said matter of factly. “I doubt any of us will be. But we have things to do before that.”  
  
Carolyn nodded, noting how the hands on her cheeks were shaking. “Is yours dead?”  
  
“Knocked out. I think. It was a hard hit to the back of the desk. Could go either way.” It was an odd kind of comfort Douglas was offering but Carolyn smiled briefly to acknowledge it.  
  
This room served as the main terminal for passengers which was to say it was big enough for two desks (One security, one check-in), a couple of chairs and the table of goods that served as the airports’ shop. There were plans to add an enquiries desk and heated debates were being held regarding which desk to move to make room for it and if check-in was already an enquiry desk.  
  
So when the sound of a plane starting up came from outside., it was so close it drowned out the pairs’ conversation.  
  
“That’s GERTI!” Carolyn yelled, rushing to the nearly window. Sure enough, GERTI was executing a turn and beginning to taxi down the runway.  
  
“I knew leaving a key aboard her was a good idea.” Douglas said as he moved to stand beside her. It was then that gunshots rang through the airport as a pair of men began to chase GERTI down the runway.  
  
“Ah Martin. That was a very clever idea.” Douglas admitted. “Now, how are you getting out of there?”  
  
“Wait, Martin? Martin is in there?” Carolyn said. “Oh you idiots.”  
  
“Come on.” Douglas said, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the last of the rooms in the building. “Once we clear here, Martin has provided us with the perfect distraction. We’ll be free to make it to the other hangar and we can meet them there.”  
  
Carolyn nodded and released Douglas while raising her bloody knife.  
  
“Let’s go.”

********  
  
“Okay. Okay. Okay. I am in control of the situation. I am in control.”  
  
Arthur looked up from where he was delighting in tying the invaders up with the handcuffs they had had on them. It was almost as much fun as breaking out of them!  
  
“Skip, you okay? Because you sound a bit not okay. Which is okay, but not really.”  
  
Martin took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Fine. I am fine.”  
  
He flinched when there was a loud bang from below. “You locked the tower door, right?”  
  
“Yup! Broke the lock too. Now noone can get in.” Arthur declared.  
  
“And we can’t get out!”  
  
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”  
  
“Obviously not.” Martin snapped then sighed. “Sorry Arthur, that was a perfectly good idea. We’ll kick down the door or something.”  
  
“You can do that? Brilliant!”  
  
“What? No! I can’t do that. Can you?” Martin said, moving to stand in the stairwell so he could see the door. “Can you?”  
  
“Can I what?”  
  
“Kick down the door?” Arthur had finished tying their prisoners up and moved to stand beside Martin.  
  
“I don’t know Skip. I can give it a go!” He said cheerfully.  
  
“Well, you could but then we’ll let in all those people banging on the door...or all those people who were banging. Why did they stop banging?” Martin gave the door another critical look.  
  
“Maybe they got bored?”  
  
“Did they seem to be anything like the type of people to give up?” Martin said dismissively, quickly heading for the large windows to see if he could get a better look.  
  
What he saw froze the blood in his veins. Carolyn and Douglas were running across open ground, completely unprotected. Below him a man was carefully moving across the tarmac, lining up a shot as he went. He stopped halfway there and Martin began to breath in and out...  
  
There wasn’t a thought in his mind. Martin just raised his gun and fired, hoping to scare the man, to throw off his aim. He prayed he wasn’t too late...  
  
But Martin wasn’t one to miss easily, especially not a shot of a mere 30 yards. A flash of blood appeared on the man’s left shoulder and the man dropped.  
  
Martin took a deep, shaking breath.  
  
“Skip! Over there! They’re going to kill Mum and Douglas!”  
  
********  
  
They were almost there.  
  
That was the only thought in Douglas’ head as someone's hands grabbed him and pulled him off his course. Douglas flailed and fell, his momentum forcing him onto the ground. He raised himself to his knees and looked into the gun pointed at his head. He could see Carolyn in the corner of his eyes being held by an man behind her. She was struggling, one hand gripping the arm holding her.  
  
“Any last words?” The man asked and Douglas nearly groaned because this is just horrific.  
  
The man suddenly stiffened, then released his gun. Douglas watched as his chest bloomed red and a tickle of blood escaped his lips before he fell forward. Douglas scrambled out of the way and met Carolyn’s equally confused eyes.  
  
She then pushed back into her captor who released her in shock.  
  
“You stabbed me, you bitch!” He cried.  
  
Douglas saw the look of horror, sadness and shock on her face before she took a deep breath and it disappeared. She turned.  
  
“Well, yes. What did you expect? Now are you going to- Oh there he goes.” The man’s legs seemed to give out from under him and he fell to the ground.  
  
Douglas looked away, instead placing his glance across the airfield to see if his mysterious savior was in sight. To his shock, he could see Martin in the ATC tower, still aiming the gun at his position. Arthur was either attached to his captain or hugging him so clearly Martin was not okay.  
  
“Carolyn, we need to move.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“We need to move, get back up and get out of here while we’re still okay.” She followed his gaze, though he wasn’t sure if her eyesight  was good enough to see what he saw.  
  
“Okay. Come on Douglas.” Douglas pulled himself to his feet and the pair ran for the aeroplane hangar they had been aiming for.  
  
********  
  
The hangar was unguarded. It looked like the two men that had just been...taken down by them had been the guards, though from the silence inside the airport's workers trapped inside had not noticed. Douglas ran back and grabbed the keys off the stabbed man, and they unlocked the hangar.  
  
The door opened on the entire staff of Fitton airport, handcuffed and sitting in small groups.  
  
“Douglas?” Carl called, disbelief and relief warring in his voice. “What? How?”  
  
“Carl, your replacement pissed off Martin.” Douglas joked as he knelt beside him.  
  
The man laughed. “That’s not hard to do. What did Martin do to him?” A quick look over his handcuffs and Douglas knew he was going to need to get Arthur to release them. He stood with an apologetic shrug. Meanwhile Carolyn began counting the people there and checking with them to make sure this was everyone. Everyone seemed to be eyeing her, watching the bloody knife still gripped in her bloody hand.  
  
“Well, I’m not a hundred percent sure. There’s a chance Martin may have shot him.”  
  
The conversations that had been slowly starting up suddenly stopped. “What?” Gasped Carl.  
  
Douglas ignored him. “Has anyone got a phone? No? Know where they were taken?”  
  
“Over there.” Phil nodded. “Sounded like they crushed the lot though.”  
  
“Martin’s phone is an old Nokia. It might have survived. Did they come in later and add phones?” At Phil’s nod, Douglas began searching through the pile of broken phones. “We only need the one.” His hands closed on an intact phone. “And here it is.”  
  
A cheer went through the hangar. Douglas dialed for the police.  
  
“Hello? Yes, I would like to report a hijacking. Yes, of an airport. Where? Oh Fitton. You might need to hurry, we’ve gotten most of them but there could be more. What do I mean by gotten? Mostly I mean dead or unconscious.”  
  
*********

**Epilogue**

  
Detective Inspector Gregson mentally groaned as a journalist finally managed to corner him. He had been putting this off for hours, ever since the first call of a siege at an airport came through.  
  
“Detective Inspector! Can you tell us what happened here?” An eager journalist shoved a mic in his face and there was a camera no doubt rolling live behind him.  
  
“Yes, I can. Just give me a second.” Gregson took a step back. Journalists spotted him clearly about to give a statement and flocked towards him. He sighed mentally. “Earlier today police were called to what was described to us as the hijacking of Fitton airport. The armed response team was summoned and were able to subdue two men-”  
  
“Was the airport seized by _two_ men?” One reported cut in.  
  
“No, there were-”  
  
“Was anyone hurt?”  
  
“Yes, they’re-”  
  
“How many dead?”  
  
Gregson lost it. “All of you, be quiet! There’ll be time for questions in a moment. Firstly, we’ve determined it was an 11 man team, who seized control of the airport in just under ten minutes. They were highly professional. So far there has been two fatalities, two critically injured and five seriously injured.”  
  
“What about the offenders?” One journalist called from the back.  
  
Gregson blinked. “Those injuries were amongst the offenders. So far there has been no reports of anything more serious than bruising among the civilians.”  
  
 _There is a great sense of pleasure,_ Gregson thought, i _n being able to silence a group of reporters. Gaggle of reporters? That sounds better, more reporter-y._  
  
“What? How?” One quick thinking journalist finally asked.  
  
“As far as we can tell...either the luckiest aeroplane crew landed partway into the siege or these men picked the airport base of a group of highly trained special agents.” Gregson unwilling looked towards where the crew in question were being held, their stories gone over again and again while he waited for a background check to come through.  
  
“Them?” One journalist said in shock. “With the old lady?”  
  
“The old lady is confessing to killing a man.” Gregson whispered, forgetting himself and showing some of the shock he still felt. “I wouldn’t call her harmless.” He blinked back to himself. “This conference is over.”  
  
The journalists were too shocked to protest.  
  
********  
  
Carolyn ran her eyes over the wallchart, checked the note in her hand, then the chart again.    
  
“Sorry, we can’t fit you in. Oh? Well I don’t care how important your business conference in Sweden is, we can’t fly you those dates. The day before is possible- No, we don’t carry weapons on our aeroplane!” She slammed the phone down.  
  
“Another person after a MJN ninja flight?” Douglas drawled.  
  
Carolyn smiled. “Yes. We’re going to be booked solid for the next two years at this rate. MJN might actually become a business rather than a charity.”  
  
“I wasn’t aware we were a charity before.” Martin said from the doorway. He had a bag in his hands and Arthur was two steps behind him. Arthur kept going, headed for the parking lot while Martin stopped.  
  
“Well, we’ll definitely not be  charity soon.” Carolyn remarked. “Are you really now?”  
  
“Yes, I’ve got my things. The field is just outside Fitton, you can follow my van.”  
  
Douglas stood. “Oh just give us directions. I’ll beat you there.”  
  
Martin glared at him. “What’s the point in that? I’m the one with the weapons, you can’t start learning to fire a gun until I get there.”  
  
“Oh come on Martin. I believe I could manage.”  
  
Martin huffed. “Yes, yes you’re very clever. I can still out shoot you.”  
  
Douglas’ smile was small but genuine. “I’m aware.”  
  
Martin answered with a smile of his own.  
  
“Come on you two. If we’re to prove to ourselves our skills are still fine and all that crap like that therapist ordered we had better get a move on.” Carolyn demanded.  
  
With matching rolled eyes, Martin and Douglas followed their boss and friend to where Arthur was waiting.  


End file.
